


Chasing the Darkness

by daire



Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-10-04
Updated: 2000-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:41:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daire/pseuds/daire
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Chasing the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Chasing the Darkness by Daire

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**Chasing the Darkness**

By Daire 

In my HL universe, "Archangel" never occurred. A few lines are taken from "Something Wicked" and bits of the "Timeless" storyline, I think you'll recognize them when you see them. 

This is set about 35 years from now (2000), and since I can't imagine what kind of technology we'll have by then, I'm keeping the cell phone, and there is no cure, no matter how close we may truly be now or in the future. 

* * *

His friend was dying. 

It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last, the fact hadn't changed in 450 years. 

That's how it always ended, Immortals and Mortals both. At least for mortals it didn't end with "There can be only one." How many times had he spoken those very words before delivering the final stroke that declared him winner? Far too many. At least there were the few that hadn't resulted in death. His Dark Quickening came to mind. When he had been about to take Richie's head in the dojo, Richie had asked him the words. 

_"Is it because there can be only one? Is that it?"_ Richie had asked in fear and anger at his teacher's violent attack. 

_That sinister laugh. "That's a' good a reason as any."_

The memory still sent shivers down his spine. Deep down he still felt regret that Richie had felt the fear of dying by his teacher's hand, even though Richie had long forgiven him. For the longest time there wasn't a day he didn't thank the Powers That Be that Joe Dawson had interfered and shot him. Methos had risked his life to help him. Richie started a new chapter in his life, albeit not the best one, after being at the receiving end of a deliberate challenge. 

And Tessa, his beautiful Tessa, he hadn't been able to save her or Richie. Thank goodness it had been quick. He didn't know if he would have been able to watch her wither away from age or disease. _Tess, I wish you were here now._ To have her with him would give him someone to lean on without hesitation. 

A flurry of frantic activity brought him back to the present. The waiting area was full, either waiting for triage or care. Whining children and sick babies. An announcement over the radio from an incoming ambulance. Doctors rushing to one of the exam room in response to a flatline. 

Did it never end? 

He saw a doctor and nurse rush into the exam room that Joe was in and his heart skipped a beat. The days he always knew were coming were finally here. It was a fact of life, plain and simple. Every time it struck him the same, and he grieved as any other human being. It never got easier. That's how he knew he hadn't become indifferent to the world around him. As long as he could love and care and grieve, he would know he hadn't grown impervious to feeling. 

At least Joe had his wife, Lora, and his daughter Amy by his side. Over the years the father and daughter had formed a close relationship since the truth came out that he was her father in the mid-1990's. He'd finally found happiness with Lora in their thirty-five years of marriage. She enjoyed the Blues as much as Joe and finally asked him out after weeks of flirting with him at his bar. He had been hesitant at first, not only because of his handicap, but also because of the Watchers. But she had accepted him and the risks completely, and Amy too. 

The Watchers were losing one of their best. And so was Duncan. He felt a bit selfish, but without Joe around to trust to get the facts right in the Watcher reports, he wondered if the records would be as well kept. Maybe he should disappear after Joe was gone to avoid a new Watcher. No doubt he already had one, he just hadn't taken the time to find out who it was yet. Joe's failing health didn't allow him out in the field anymore. The only time Joe could watch MacLeod was when he came to visit and give him the information he needed for his reports. 

Watcher superiors probably weren't happy about that particular situation, but it wouldn't last much longer. Joe had given them years of dedicated service. Despite his friendship with more than one Immortal and violating the Watcher Oath, he had never truly done anything to affect the outcome of any aspect of the Game. If he hadn't given MacLeod the odd piece of information, he would have found out another way. 

The din in the waiting area seemed to steadily amplify, from it being his imagination or it actually was getting louder, MacLeod didn't know. All he knew was that his friend was closer to death with each passing minute. He'd been at the hospital for a few hours, since Lora called and said she was bringing him in, and the hospital smell mixed with sickness and the metallic smell of blood was already getting to him. 

He'd called Richie and Methos on his way to the hospital, and they would be there as soon as they could. Later for Richie, who was in France competing in a race, going by Richie Ryan III these days. Jocelin would be with him, so at least he wouldn't be alone. Methos at least was back in the States, having just come back from Santorini, a retreat to remember Alexa on the anniversary of her death. It was the last place she had been well enough to do any traveling and given him fond memories. It was how he honored her every year. He wasn't as worried about Methos not having anyone to comfort him; he dealt with things in his own way, the way he had for thousands of years. He couldn't get in touch with Amanda, but he left messages at every number he had for her. 

A nurse who he had seen come to and from the room Joe's was in walking towards him, a solemn look on her face. _No, not yet._ Richie and Methos haven't gotten here yet. 

"Mr. MacLeod?" She scanned the faces as she called the name, but barely heard over the noise. Duncan heard her, but was frozen to his seat expecting the worst. "Mr. Duncan MacLeod?" she called again. 

Finding his mobility, he stood and walked over to her. "I'm Duncan MacLeod." He choked back the emotion that filled his soul. He read her nametag: Merelyn Carter. 

"Mrs. Dawson asked me to bring you in." Duncan nodded. "I want to prepare you....he's been in and out of consciousness and we have him hooked up to a number of things. Just so you aren't overwhelmed by the sight." Another nod. He knew what to expect, but didn't tell the nurse that. She was just doing her job. "If you'll follow me?" 

It wasn't far, the door was visible from where he had been sitting, but the blinds in the window had been closed to afford the patients within the room some privacy. Nurse Carter held door open as he entered. With him far enough inside, she let the door close softly as he stared at the scene before him. 

A dim light cast deep shadows on his friend's features, making him look almost gaunt. He was thin from the cancer and effects of chemotherapy, a shadow of his former, healthy, self. He was asleep at the moment, the drugs doing their work. Lora and Amy each occupied a side of the bed, Amy with her forehead resting on her overlapped arms. Despite her husband's illness and impending death, Lora looked up at Duncan and gave him a small smile, genuinely happy to see him. 

The smile could leave at any moment, replaced by an anger that while her husband was dying he, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, was forever healthy as a horse and wasn't in any immediate danger of dying. He rarely felt guilty about his unasked-for Immortality, only when he was about to lose a close friend. It pained him to see Joe lying in the hospital bed, helpless to do anything for him. 

Duncan walked to Lora and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek in greeting and comfort. Rising, she gave him a hug. "How's he doing?" he asked, keeping his voice low as not to disturb Joe. 

"He's sleeping. There's not much more the doctors can do other than keep him comfortable." Lora stretched her muscles, trying to get some of the stiffness out of them from being in the same position for so long. 

Amy hadn't said a word, and had only glanced at Duncan when he came in. Her eyes remained on her father, tears barely held back. 

Keeping his voice low, Duncan suggested Lora and Amy take a break and get a cup of coffee and work the kinks out of heir bodies. "Go on, I'll stay right here. If anything happens, I'll have you paged." Amy resisted at first, but her stepmother finally convinced her to join her. As they left the room, Amy took a long look at her father over her shoulder, her eyes red-rimmed and sad. 

When they were gone, Duncan took off his duster, laid it over the back of the chair, and sat down next the side of the bed. The Watcher's hair had gone completely white years ago, and he had never lost any great amount other than from chemotherapy. Gently, he took Joe's weathered, wrinkled, thin hand into his own. He could remember those hands picking out a blues tune, the sound echoing in the empty bar. Duncan would give almost anything to see them as they once were. 

He had closed his eyes while remembering, but opened them as he felt a feeble pressure around his hand. Joe's eyes were half-open, and he grinned at seeing his old friend, Duncan couldn't help but return the smile, even if it didn't reach his eyes. "Mac...." He spoke in a near whisper, but just loud enough that Duncan didn't have to strain to hear him. 

"You don't have to talk, Joe." 

"Yes." He paused to gather a bit of strength to speak more. "Don't want to be here." The pleading in his voice was unmistakable. Joe hoped Duncan understood what he meant. It was the last place he wanted to be to die. Lora and Amy couldn't stand to see him suffer and they brought him in when he couldn't hide his pain any longer. 

"Please...." 

Duncan nodded to quiet him and in understanding. Joe wanted him to convince Lora and Amy to have him released from the hospital. It would be a tough task, one he wasn't sure he would win. For now, they just waited in silence, words were not needed. He made an attempt to give Joe some comfort. "Methos should be here soon, and Richie is on his way. Jocelin will be with him." Jocelin had become like another daughter to Joe, and he a father figure to her. Especially when she was struggling with her feelings after becoming Immortal and still felt like she was between the two worlds, and at other times in the last forty years. Watchers usually gave her the willies. It was weird knowing some secret society watched her; but knowing Joe Dawson had helped her realize that most of them didn't mean any harm. Of course, there were still a few Renegade Watchers, and they all had to watch their backs. 

Unable to fight the slumber inducing qualities of the drugs dripping form the IV, Joe slipped once again into oblivion. Duncan gave a brief prayer for strength for Joe and his women, and for his own in to get through the task of getting Lora to agree to have Joe released. 

Half an hour later, Lora and Amy came back into the room, the lines of worry and fatigue faded a fraction by their brief respite. Amy's face was tear stained and her eyes were puffy from recent tears. This only made it harder for Duncan, knowing what Joe wanted him to do. 

Amy took up her seat by her father, barely noticing Duncan. Lora remained by the door. 

"Duncan, can I talk to you for a few minutes?" 

Duncan got up and walked over to her. "Of course. Why don't we go out to the lounge?" 

They found as secluded a spot they were going to find, but it was better than in the main stream of things. It was a few moments before Lora composed her words. She had so many feelings that she couldn't put any one in a sentence or summarize them all. "I don't know what to do anymore, Duncan. I don't want to lose him, but I don't want to see him suffer either." Tears were threatening to spill again. 

"There's nothing I can say that will ease your pain. Losing someone never changes the feelings, no matter how long you're around. _I'm_ still not used to it. But it's always the same. There is nothing we can do except make him comfortable." Lora knew of Immortals out of necessity, but didn't begrudge them their gift. They hadn't asked for it, some maybe not even wanted it, despite the price of their long lives. She was glad Joe hadn't been Immortal, she wouldn't wish watching her die and facing life without her on him. 

"I don't know if I can let him go. He's been my life for over thirty years." 

"I know. But he doesn't want to be here, Lora. He asked me to get him out of here." 

"I thought he would. I'll go talk to the doctor." 

Duncan nodded. "As soon as Adam arrives, we'll go. I'll leave messages for Richie and Jocelin." 

As Lora sought out Joe's doctor, Duncan left a written message for Richie with the Admissions clerk, and voice messages on both his and Richie's answering machines to call his cell phone when the got in. By then, he would know where they planned to go. He hoped Lora would think of a place that Joe would want to go. 

Shortly after he finished, Methos had arrived, looking haggard from his trip halfway around the world. "I was going to ask how Joe was, but the look on your face says it all. Not long?" Duncan shook his head. "It's not long enough." 

"It never is." 

They had spoken those same words years ago when Methos had left to take Alexa on a trip across the United States and the world, visited the places she'd always wanted to go. She had been dying then. Further proof that losing people never got easier. And for all their time on Earth, Immortals never had enough time with their loved ones. 

Mortal lives and bodies were so fragile, each day bringing them closer to death. No matter if they spent every waking minute with those they loved, it would never be enough. 

Immortality be damned. 

* * *

Mac's cabin on Holy Ground. That's where Joe wanted to go. Over the years he had found retreat at the place for himself or as a getaway place for him and Lora; the place Mac had built as a sanctuary after he lost Little Deer. The spirits of the forest had a calming effect on those who spent any time there, whether they believed in Indian lore or not. It was just such a peaceful place; one couldn't help but relax. 

They had been there three days, waiting for the inevitable, watching the life slowly ebb from the retired Watcher. Duncan spent a lot of time meditating, preparing himself. The others were coping in their own ways. 

It was early one morning, before sunrise, when Duncan was awakened by Lora. "He wants to see you," she whispered, emotion overwhelming her. Instinctively, he knew it was time. Joe would not last the day. 

Sleepily, he pulled on a robe and shuffled from the room as quietly as he could, attempting to not disturb Methos who slept in the spare twin bed, but somehow knew the ancient Immortal was probably awake as well. The cabin was still quiet except for the little noises of the forest and Richie's soft snoring. He didn't know how Jocelin slept through it. 

Duncan entered the room Joe and Lora were using and saw Amy holding vigil at his bedside. Lora remained outside the room, giving a bit of privacy, something Amy still wasn't giving. Seeing Duncan, she motioned for him towards them, whispering. "He's more asleep than awake, but he'll know you're here." 

Taking Joe's hand in his, the Watcher's eyes fluttered open. "Mac..." his voice was raspy, a struggle to get them out. "Want to see the sunrise...." 

Duncan nodded. "I'll go get dressed, then I'll take you out." In the hall, he found Lora crying, tears staining her cheeks. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms in comfort. 

"I don't know what I'm going to do without him Mac." 

"I know, I know," he choked out, emotion beginning to fill him as well. "You know that if you need anything, all you have to do is ask." Unable to speak, Lora simply nodded. 

After a few minutes, she gently pulled away and wiped her face with her hands. She silently bid him to be on his way and change. Sunrise wasn't that long off. On his way past Richie and Jocelin's room, he knocked softly and waited a moment before opening the door. He found Jocelin half-awake, her eyes opening all the way when she saw the even sadder look on his face. 

"Is he....?" she couldn't say the words. 

"No. Soon. He wants to watch the sunrise." 

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What can I do?" 

"Just be there." Nodding in understanding, she watched as Duncan quietly closed the door. For a moment, she let it start to sink in that the man she had always thought of as a surrogate father after getting to know him was truly going to be gone soon. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to keep herself calm and from crying. Turning towards Richie's sleeping form, she bent to wake him. 

"I'm awake, I heard." He sensed and knew what she was feeling; Joe had been the same figure to him. Sitting up, he pulled her into his arms, and she surrendered willingly. 

"I can't do this Richie." 

"We'll have to." 

Wordlessly, they got dressed. 

* * *

The sky was beginning to have touches of light spreading across the horizon, from a midnight blue in the west to almost a powder blue in the east, heralding the start of a new day. Stars twinkled for the last time until the next night, their light overtaken by the sun's rays. 

Duncan had carried Joe to the opposite side of the island and settled him in Lora's arms. Mac and Amy took spots on either side, while Methos, Richie and Jocelin gathered a few feet behind. As helpless as they felt, they were glad they could be there. 

As the sun rose over the trees, it fell on the group, warming their faces in the cool morning air. They had all been quiet, not wanting to break the peace. It was Joe who finally broke the silence. 

"You've been a good friend, Mac. Take care of Lora and Amy." 

Nodding, Duncan promised. "I will, my friend." 

"Lora, I love you." She replied with an "I love you" of her own, but the others barely heard her. "Amy, I'm glad I had you for a daughter." 

He said his good-byes to Methos, Richie and Jocelin as the sun rose higher, chasing the darkness away. When the last traces of night had disappeared, Joe slowly closed his eyes and softly drew and exhaled his last breath. 

* * *

They were the last ones still at the cemetery, even the maintenance men had gone after replacing the displaced earth. 

"Why, Mac? Why are we still here?" There was a flash of anger in his quaking voice. He was still young, he hadn't gotten used to seeing his loved ones grow old and die. Jocelin placed her arms around Richie's waist and rested her head on his shoulder. She squeezed her arms gently, giving him reassurance that she was with him and they would help each other deal with Joe's death. 

"I don't know Richie." 

Joe's passing was a blessing in disguise. There was no more pain. Only for those left behind, but in their hearts knew he was in a better place. 

* * *

© 2000   
Please send comments to the author! 

10/04/2000 

Celtic Web Art 

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